Compromise for the Cowl
by Unassailable Heart
Summary: When asked a question by a copycat Batman, Tim makes a different choice, and becomes Robin to Jason Todd's Batman.
1. Chapter 1

**Batman is dead. Long live the Batmen.**

"But the game is only just beginning! That's right, Boy Wonder, follow me. This is my playground!"

Tim Drake fell. Catapulting off the cliff he twisted in midair, landing a punch, and getting kicked in return before he and Jason Todd hit the ground, rolling and leaping to their feet as soon as possible.

"Why don't you come out and play, Jason?" Tim taunted, looking around for his vanished adversary. "Then I can tear the cowl off your big deranged head!"

" _You're showing me a side I haven't seen very often, Tim…and I like it!"_

Tim scowled. "Place is rigged with speakers to throw me off. I'll still find you!"

He would. The former Robin turned crime boss turned crazy Batman murderer was only adding to the current escalated madness of Gotham city. His villain killings weren't helping, and Tim was determined to stop him.

"Ah!" Tim screamed as something sliced across his back.

" _You have one chance to save yourself, Tim,"_ came the slightly crackly voice over the speakers again.

"Then face me, coward! Ugh!" Blood ran down the back of Tim's head, sliced open by a batarang.

" _Join me. Be my Robin."_

Tim shook his head slightly, not sure he had heard right. "Join you? In your little crusade against evil?"

A static-y sounding laugh echoed through the chamber. " _Yes, in my little crusade. I need someone of your skills, and in return, I give you Gotham. A clean, villianless, Gotham."_

Tim hated himself for thinking about the offer. But- With all their allies, with all the heroes, they still weren't winning. Madness had taken over Gotham, and only Batman could save the city. Tim looked down at the old Batsuit he was wearing. It was too big still, he was just a teenager. He wasn't ready to continue the Batman legacy, to shoulder that burden. Not yet.

Tim couldn't be Batman.

But Gotham needed Batman.

Wasn't this his job, as Robin, to protect the people of this city at Batman's side? Did it really matter who wore the cowl, as long as that cowl was being used to strike fear into the hearts of criminals?

A too-big, blue and gray suit on a scrawny teen was definitely not fear-inspiring.

"I have a few conditions," Tim said.

There was a sound behind Tim as Jason dropped down from a ledge, clad in an intimidating black Batsuit, with a flaring ragged cape, a grille over the mouth, holsters for his guns and glowing red eyes.

"Conditions? Don't push it, kid."

Tim took a deep breath and snapped his spine straight. "I want my city back. And they way we're doing things, Dick and I, it's not working. But I don't want to end up fighting my own brother. We work with Dick, or we avoid him."

Jason tipped his head to the side. "He stays out of my way; I'll stay out of his. I can promise that."

Tim decided that was close enough. "We live in an actual apartment, not this pit. Bruce had a cave under Wayne towers, we can work from there.

"Ok."

"And no more killing. I can-"

Loud, insane laughter interrupted him. "No more killing? Boy blunder, the scum I kill deserve it. Deal with that," Jason flicked the safety off of the gun he was holding, "Or join them. Your choice."

Tim chose.

…..

Dick took a deep breath, and then slowly let it out, releasing all the fear that had been churning in his stomach since Damian had been shot. His responsibility, his-Robin.

Damian was ok.

The gunshot wound, delivered by an insane Batman copycat wasn't fatal.

The kid had guts, Dick admitted to himself. He'd make a good Robin, if he could learn to control his temper.

He knew Damian wanted to be Robin. He had been told that it was his right since he was a toddler, and Tim was getting a little old to be Robin, not to mention that Damian's father had just died. He needed this. But to be Robin, you needed a Batman…

Dick walked over to display case of all the costumes. And froze. An old Batman suit was missing. On the glass door it should have been behind, there was a note.

 _Gone hunting._

 _-Tim_

Dick picked up his Nightwing costume, and got ready to join his brother. It was time to take his city back.

…

" _Down a bit, f-ther. Tw-nty y-rds d-n,"_ the static-filled voice of Oracle said over Dick's comlink.

"Oracle? Can you at least hear me?" Dick asked, holding the emergency flair up to illuminate his path through the cave.

" _Nightwing- I'm lo-ing-you._ _Too mu- in-erfe-nce."_

"See you, Babs. It's just me and miles of darkness."

 _Woomph!_

A large bat symbol made of fire ignited on the floor below. Dick stared at it, confused.

"What was even the purpose of that?"Asked a voice Dick recognized as his brother's.

"I had a lot of time on my hands."

"So drawing a bat symbol made of flammable liquids seemed like a good idea to pass the time?"

"Well to be honest, if I had to kill you, I was going to write 'too late' over it and light it when Dick came looking for you. You know, intimidation. Isn't that right, Dick?" asked Jason, turning and (presumably, it was hard to tell with the grille over his mouth) grinning at him.

Tim put one hand behind his head and waved with the other. "Oh, hi, Dick."

Dick nodded. "Tim. You ok?"

Tim shrugged. "More or less. What are you doing here?"

Dick tried not to scream. "Looking for you! I was worried!"

"I'm fine," Tim insisted. "I was out looking for the copycat batman and I found Jason. Um," he took a deep breath before meeting his older brother's eyes. "I agreed to be his Robin, Dick. I'm staying here."

"You- what?" Dick asked in disbelief. "Ok, very funny. Now help me take Jason to Arkham, where he belongs."

Jason took a step forwards, hands dropping to his guns. "You can try, _goldie_."

Tim stepped between them, holding up his hands. "Stop it! Dick, I'm not helping you take down Jason. Jason, if you start a fight here, it will not end well. Both of you, back off."

Both men took a step back, glaring at each other.

Dick took a slow breath and let it out. "Tim. This is Jason you just agreed to help. You know how he works. You know what he does. Don't throw away your convictions for a thrill, please."

Tim shook his head. "You really think I'd do that? Dick, this city is crumbling. I honestly, _logically,_ think that Jason can help save it. I'm sorry," he took a step back to stand at Jason's side. "But I won't be your Robin."

Dick raised his eyebrows. "You'd rather team up with a killer, the man who shot a child earlier, then find a way to work with me?"

Tim tuned to Jason, slightly shocked.

Jason laughed. "I had my reasons. Just as I have my reasons for recruiting Tim. You heard what he had to say, Dick. So get out."

Dick turned away. "I don't understand this, Tim. But you've made your choice. So just- stay out of my way."

Jason crossed his arms as Tim let out a shaky breath as his brother left. "You gonna run after him?"

"No," Tim said, a note of determination entering his voice. "No I'm not. Like he said, I've made my choice."

Jason pulled out a batarang and twirled it expertly. "Alright then, Robin. Let's go save this city."

 **This story after this chapter will not follow the events of Battle for the Cowl, and will be more a series of stories about how Jason and Tim work together than an actual plot based story.**

 **~Heart**


	2. Chapter 2

Dick ignored the glare burning into his back as he typed at the batcomputer.

"Tt." Damian stood up and walked into him brother's line of sight. "We should be looking for them."

Dick felt a muscle in his eyelid twitch. "I already said no, Damian. I'm leaving them alone. If they do something criminal, then we take them out."

Damian growled. "Why wait? We know they'll go rogue! Todd is a madman and Drake is an imbecile. There's no way they'll function properly, we should take them down now."

Dick hit the enter key a little too hard. "That's not how justice works! First lesson of being Robin, you listen to Batman, no questions."

"Tt," muttered Damian.

…..

"No! I'm not carrying that!" Tim said emphatically.

"You are if you want be Robin," Jason countered, shoving the gun at Tim. "Put it on."

Tim crossed his arms. "My new costume doesn't even have a place to put it."

Tim's new costume was designed with intimidation in mind. It had gold belts crossed over the chest, with a buckle where they crossed containing a black silhouette of a bird head on a red background. The main part of the costume was a red shirt, black pants and boots, a black cape lined with yellow, and a black cowl coming to a beak-like point in the middle of Tim's face completed the look.

Jason tossed a thigh holster at him. "Now you do. Wear it."

Tim grumbled as he strapped it to his leg. "Fine. But I'm not using it unless-"

Jason waved his hands. "Yes, I know, morals, rules, values, I get it."

Tim gingerly picked up the gun and examined it. "Can I modify it to shoot batarangs?"

"Do you want me to modify your face?"

"Eesh, tetchy."

Jason finished gearing up. "Ready to patrol?"

Tim grinned. "Always."

….

Gotham was busy tonight, so after three muggings and an attempted robbery, Jason and Tim found themselves on top of the Iceberg Lounge. Tim listened, but instead of the usual sounds of music and laughter that emanated from the lounge, he heard sudden gunshots and screams.

Jason unclipped his grapple gun from his belt. "Let's get outta here."

Tim looked up, confused. "Go? Something's going on in there!"

Jason shrugged. "Whoever is in there probably deserves whatever's happening. Let's go."

Tim didn't move. "Maybe they do, maybe they don't. I can't just leave when people are in danger, Batman, no matter who they are."

Jason took a step closer, looming over Tim. "Choose your battles wisely, bird boy. I won't always fight them beside you."

Tim didn't move. "I chose to be your Robin, and now I choose to fight this," he said, gesturing at the Iceberg Lounge. "And I will do it with or without you. But I'm asking you for your help."

Jason stepped back. "Well spoken. You must do really well at inspirational speeches. Alright, let's go save the undeserving scum."

"I'll go in the back?" Tim asked, pulling his grapple out.

Jason nodded. "But after this, we have an errand to run. And you're not allowed to protest."

"Where are we going?" Tim asked with a frown.

"Relax, Robin. We're simply taking what is ours."

…..

Dick stared at the Batcave in shock. It had been scavenged of almost half its contents.

"Damian?"

Damian shrugged. "I didn't do it. Maybe Pennyworth did."

Dick raised his eyebrows at this theory, then sighed. "I think I know who did it."

"Who?"

Dick pointed at the now empty glass case that had once held the second Robin's costume.

"Oh. Now are we going after them?"

"… I'll think about it."

…..

Tim finished setting up the computer in the new Batcave, as Jason put batarangs and other weapons in drawers.

"We'll eventually need to buy weapons and gear of our own, instead of 'borrowing' stuff from Dick," Tim said.

"You're CEO of Wayne Enterprise, Right?" Jason asked, dropping into a chair next to Tim. "You'll figure something out."

"Maybe I can get control of the R and D," Tim mused. "That'd be pretty useful. Uh," Tim swiveled his chair to face Jason. "Speaking of useful things, I don't suppose you've thought of a cover story?"

Jason's brow furrowed. "A cover story?"

Tim nodded. "Yeah, for why you're not, you know, dead."

Jason stared at him.

"Because people are going to want to know…" Tim trailed off not liking the glint in Jason's eye.

"Tell them to mind their own business, and stay out of mine," snapped Jason, abruptly turning and walking across the bunker.

"I'll think of something," Tim said to himself.

Across the room, Jason took a few deep breaths, trying to resists the urge to go beat up a few criminals to get rid of his rage.

He was fine. Completely fine. No way could the nerd have known that talking about a cover for his death would bring back all the anger he had felt when he first returned to Gotham city.

Kid didn't deserve to be beaten bloody for accidently bringing up a topic Jason hated.

Jason decided the best way to deal with this was to ignore it until next patrol, then take it out on some deserving scum. What could go wrong with that?

Or…

Jason slipped his hand into his pocket, pulling out a card. On it was the number of a physiatrist. Maybe…

Nah.

Not today.

Today he'd deal with this himself.

Jason walked back across the room and tapped Tim on the shoulder. "Come on; let's get some food and talk 'back from the dead' strategy."

Tim got up and followed him, muttering something about mood swings, and Jason suppressed a grin.

This might just work.


End file.
